It's Not What It Looks Like
by CUtopia
Summary: Minerva had always been able to avoid becoming a subject of the school gossip - well, until she made one tiny, thoughtless statement.
Entry for the Quidditch League, Round 2, Wigtown Wanderers vs Caerphilly Catapults

 **Wanderers** \- Transfiguration

 **KEEPER:** Write about a student's relationship with their teacher for the subject. Min 900 words.

* * *

 **It's Not What It Looks Like**

Hogwarts definitely was a place where rumours spread as fast as a snitch could cross the Quidditch pitch, and it was common that these rumours were more and more abstract the more often they were shared. And so a small, unimportant gesture could, thanks to the fantasy of some students, turn into a make-out session between two students or be the reason for an intensification of some inter-house feuds.

Minerva McGonagall had always watched these things from a safe distance, happy that she never did anything to give her classmates a reason to say something about her. She preferred to concentrate on her own matters, not even commenting on the sometimes odd stories that people told her in the hallways or during lunch and it worked for her. In her six years at Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall had never raised any negative interest, and she planned on continuing this lucky string throughout her last year at school. Unfortunately, not all things in life are controllable, no matter how much you try and especially when you are surrounded by teenagers who are desperately seeking for some juicy scandal...

oOo

Minerva had a small smile on her lips as she walked towards the office of her Transfiguration professor, Albus Dumbledore. He was her favourite teacher at Hogwarts because, since recognising her talent for Transfiguration, he had invested a lot of time in mentoring her. From him, she had learned more about the subject than the things that were taught in the regular N.E.W.T level class, giving her an excellent perspective for studying Transfiguration after graduating from Hogwarts.

Thanks to him, she had been able to shake the sometimes nasty comments of the jealous students off and it had been a long time since she had last felt that her extraordinary talents were a disadvantage.

And lately, he had additionally started tutoring her in becoming an animagus, showing that he believed that she was talented and trustworthy enough for even the most difficult branches of Transfiguration. To become an animagus was a very exhausting process and it required a lot of talent and even more patience. But luckily, Professor Dumbledore knew exactly how to build her courage up again when she was stuck.

And well, she could not deny that he was a very pleasant person to spend time with. Besides his seriousness and patience concerning their training, he was simply humorous and friendly and he always made her smile with his anecdotes. Minerva sometimes even forgot that he was, after all, still her teacher and not a friend and that she really shouldn't become too close with him. Still, her subconscious outwitted her sometimes and she had once caught herself behaving outright flirtatiously. He hadn't commented on it at that time, yes, and though he had answered to her words with something equally charming, she was sure that he too had thought that she had taken one step too far. You didn't flirt with your teacher, no matter how much you liked him!  
However, Minerva had been able to convince herself that this slip-up had merely been caused by how relaxed she felt when he was around. Nothing more. Definitely nothing more!

The small smile still on her lips, Minerva gently knocked at the door and immediately heard the soft voice of Professor Dumbledore from the other side. She ignored the slightly tingling sensation she experienced when he asked her to come in, just as the way her heart jumped when he smiled at her from behind his desk, his blue eyes gleaming in friendliness.

"Ah, Minerva, punctual as always. Wonderful. I would like to tell you that I had the idea to change my teaching plan concerning your animagus training a little bit. I couldn't help but notice the splendid progress you are making and I think it is time to try and see how far you are able to change your body."

Minerva's smile widened even more and she shoved one of her black curls behind her ear as she stammered in excitement:"You... you think I'm ready, Professor?"

"Of course I do. Otherwise I surely wouldn't have said this."

Dumbledore's grin made it impossible for her to think that he was only playing with her and her hands were shaking as she put down her schoolbag and rolled up the sleeves of her white school blouse, a ritual she always fulfilled before starting some important work.

"However, I have to warn you. With me as your supervisor, nothing fatal is going to happen, though you will see after a few moments that these first tries are more exhausting than any of the exercises we made before. I trust you to tell me if you feel like you want to stop," Dumbledore explained calmly as he walked around his desk and Minerva felt a little bit flattered about the amount of concern that was written across his face.

"I will, Sir, I promise," she answered with a brave undertone and he nodded before proceeding to explain her what she would have to do.

Sometime later, Minerva wished he had continued to teach her some boring stuff about responsibility or something else. Just something that wasn't as frustrating and exhausting and, now to add, painful. Over the last twenty minutes, she had tried to achieve her first partial transfiguration into her animagus form, however, nothing had happened. Well, except for the fact that she was sweating like a swine because she was feeling like she was in the middle of a marathon run. Due to playing Quidditch, she was able to bear a lot, physically and mentally, but this was bringing her to the edge. Not even Professor Dumbledore's encouraging words were helping by now and she really wished someone else was there – she really felt uncomfortable about how she looked by now and she would have preferred it if he hadn't seen her like this.

Deciding that she should at least attempt to achieve some tiny improvement, Minerva tried again to change her body. Her stubborn will gave her headaches and after a few seconds, her last energy reserves were gone. Before she could react, her already weak legs finally gave in and she landed on her arse, pretty ungracefully. Blushing heavily, she took the hand Dumbledore offered and allowed him to pull her to her feet carefully, though for a second, she felt like she would soon hit the ground again, thanks to how smooth and caring his hands felt on her skin...

"Are you alright?" she heard him asking as he guided her to the armchair that was standing in the corner, next to his impressively huge bookshelf.

Taking a few deep breaths and drinking some of the water he had quickly conjured for her, she felt confident enough to nod. His warm hand was still laying on her shoulder and the open concern that was written over his face made her heart stumble slightly. Yes, maybe she admired him because he was so kind and understanding, more supportive than any other teacher at Hogwarts and he gave her so much attention... But she knew that this would never be more than the crush of a teenage girl on her cultivated, eloquent and charming Professor. He was older than her, so he surely would never find interest in a young girl like her, even if she was so much farther intellectually than her classmates and was behaving more mature than anybody would expect her to do. Maybe that was the problem...

Ripping herself from her thoughts, Minerva decided that it was time to behave like the adult she would be as soon as she would graduate. It would be silly to dwell after this man, she would just continue to take his advice and support and stop interpreting things into the situation that definitely weren't there.

"I feel better, Sir. However I don't think I want to continue today," she stated and was proud of herself when she was able to look him in the eyes without having the feeling of walking over clouds.

"I agree, my dear, it indeed is time for dinner. Seeing how much this has exhausted you, I think it would be wise to wait at least another week before continuing with this exercise. That should be enough time for you to have properly recovered from this."

Smiling softly at her, he turned around to hand her her schoolbag after she had stood up from the armchair, her knees still shaking a little bit. As she wished him a nice evening, he hinted a bow before opening the door for her, acting like a good gentleman and as Minerva walked down the hallway, she closed her eyes for a second. A sigh escaped her lips as she tried to keep one thought out of her head: That she regretted that they wouldn't have their private lesson for another week.

On the other hand, the aching of her muscles convinced her that maybe, just maybe, it wasn't too bad at all.

OoO

Minerva winced as she took a seat on the wooden benches at the Gryffindor table, next to her best friend Augusta. Her whole body was protesting and as Augusta gave her a questioning glance after noticing her slightly dishevelled and sweaty appearance, Minerva answered:"You wouldn't believe how much my arse is hurting; I can barely sit."

"Didn't you just come from your extra lessons with Professor Dumbledore?" Augusta asked, looking a little bit confused about Minerva's pain.

"Yes, why do you ask?"

"Uh..."

Clearing her throat awkwardly, Augusta exchanged a wide-eyed look with the younger Hufflepuff girl with which she had been casually chatting until Minerva had arrived. The Hufflepuff then stared at Minerva for a second, before her mouth opened and closed, looking as if she had just imagined something slightly disturbing. In the next second, Minerva realised why, but before she could say anything, the girl had already dashed away towards a group of other Hufflepuffs. Her green eyes widened in horror as she witnessed how the girl told the others something in a hushed, low voice and within seconds, the eyes of the whole group were on Minerva. Except for two or three people, who were, as soon as the girl had finished talking, on their way to other house tables.

Cursing inwardly, it dawned on Minerva that she had just managed to activate this perfectly oiled machine of false information, with one thoughtless and unexplained statement.

She had a problem. Definitely.


End file.
